736: Story 736: Veins of Venom 736: Story 736: Veins of Venom A heavy silence choked the air over Blackmoor.
The once-thriving city now lay in the pale embrace of death, its streets slick with decay.
Shadows twisted unnaturally, moving not from the flicker of torches, but from the will of sothing far more sinister.
Selene Nocturna stood amidst it all, a dark queen surveying her broken kingdom.
Blood stained her lips, and her golden eyes shimred with cruel amusent.
Her latest victim—the once-proud knight of the Silver Order—now knelt at her feet, convulsing.
His veins, once strong and pulsing with purpose, now bulged with a sickly black rot.
“Shh…” Selene whispered, crouching beside him.
Her gloved hand traced the side of his sweat-drenched face, her touch ice-cold.
“Let it in.
Let in.”
The knight gasped, his mouth stretching wide in an unnatural grin.
He was hers now.
A sudden shriek broke the stillness.
Selene turned, her hood falling slightly to reveal the sinister smirk curving her lips.
From the alleyways, survivors still clung to their pitiful hopes.
A woman, dressed in torn priestess robes, clutched a rusted dagger—her hands trembling as she pointed it at Selene.
“Demon!” the priestess spat, her voice hoarse.
“You will not defile this city any longer!”
Selene tilted her head, amused.
“Defile?” she echoed, stepping closer.
With every graceful step, the priestess staggered back.
“Blackmoor was already rotting,” Selene cooed.
“I simply peeled back the flesh to reveal its sickness.”
The priestess lunged.
Foolish.
Selene moved faster than the eye could track.
One flick of her wrist, one whisper of magic, and the priestess froze mid-strike.
The dagger clattered to the ground.
Her body seized, veins burning with an unholy poison.
“Venom,” Selene murmured, stepping close.
“A special gift of mine.
Do you feel it?”
The priestess whimpered, her eyes wide with terror.
“It’s in your blood now,” Selene whispered, tracing the woman’s throat with a single blackened claw.
“Creeping.
Writhing.
Becoming you.”
The priestess let out a strangled cry, her body convulsing violently.
Her skin darkened, her nails lengthened into claws.
She gasped—and then she smiled.
Selene sighed in satisfaction, placing a gloved finger beneath the woman’s chin.
“See?
You were always ant to serve.”
A distant horn shattered the eerie calm.
Selene’s grin faltered.
From beyond the ruined gates of Blackmoor, a force approached.
Torches flickered in the distance.
Banners bearing the insignia of the Silver Order and the Crimson Pact.
Warriors.
Hunters.
Selene exhaled slowly, a dark amusent returning to her expression.
“Ah… finally, a challenge.”
As the city groaned with the whispers of the newly risen, Selene stepped forward, her eyes glowing with wicked anticipation.
The next act of her conquest was about to begin.
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